


The Echoes of My Nightmares

by LuciferxDamien



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Altar Sex, Body Horror, Captivity, Demon Sex, Demon inside, Desperation, Forced Breeding, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Mpreg, Non-Consensual, Omorashi, Pregnant Sex, Sounding, rapid pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 01:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/pseuds/LuciferxDamien
Summary: Femto will never let Guts rest or have another moment of peace, even in his dreams and memories.





	The Echoes of My Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



“Griffith! C’mon, Griffith, st-stop it!” Guts was laughing, trying to get away, but Griffith was very intent this morning, laughing as he kept poking at Guts’ sides. “Q-quit it!” 

If he could just get two minutes of privacy, he’d let Griffith continue with… with whatever this was. But that seemed unlikely, and now they were starting to attract a crowd, the men stopping their work, their preparations to watch their commanders messing around, dancing through the crowd and Guts just wanted to get to the goddamn trees so he could… 

“Guts! Guts! Where are you goooing!” Griffith kept after him, laughing and twisting through the camp after him and this was embarrassing. 

“Griffith! Goddamnit!” Guts barked back at him, trying to push him away, being overly cautious of his size and superior strength. Griffith might have beaten him in that duel all those years ago, but they would both be fools to think that Guts didn’t have the advantage in a contest of brute strength. 

“C’mon, Guts!” Griffith jabbed him in the side again and Guts cursed himself for laughing in response, all of his muscles tightening and he was in miserable pain. 

Why did Griffith always have to be so weird?! Guts just wanted to go take a piss! 

Guts was strong, but in a contest of annoying, Griffith was always going to be the victor. 

Each step was pain, but Guts managed to stumble into the woods, away from the camp as Griffith followed after, teasing and chasing him and laughing and… 

And it was nice and Guts was actually having _fun_ , but… but if he didn’t get a moment to himself, and soon, he was going to embarrass himself in the worst way possible. 

And then he was going to strangle Griffith. 

“Griffith!” he cried out again, and it wasn’t really the smartest way to not draw attention to himself, still close enough to the camp for someone to hear. Damn, he was feeling desperate, desperate enough to just whip his dick out and piss on Griffith’s shoes. Maybe that would get the bastard to bugger off long enough for him to relieve himself… 

“But Guuuts!” Griffith whined and Guts bit into his bottom lip, on the verge of bursting and he could just fall to his knees and wet himself, were it not for his pride. Why was Griffith always so weird?! 

Guts had to stop walking, slamming his hand into a tree and it shook so hard leaves and loose branches fell down. “ _Griffith_ …” he hissed through his teeth, jaw set tight and he could barely see straight. It didn’t help that his cock thought _right now_ was a great time to get hard. 

Damn it all to hell! 

Guts started pulling at the laces of his trousers, his leather codpiece, pride and decency be damned, but they twisted and stuck and wouldn’t bulge. He wasn’t above ripping the front of his trousers off at this point, using his brute strength, but then Griffith was there, chuckling, placing a hand on his arm lightly. 

“My, my… What a _mess_ you’ve gotten yourself into, Guts. Allow me…” The grin on his face startled Guts, so determined, so twisted and he swallowed hard. Griffith’s fingers were so deft, easily untangling the laces and Guts felt his face grow red hot, unbelieving of what was happening. 

Cool air ghosted over his cock and he was digging his nails into the bark of the tree he was using for support. He half worried he might push it out of the ground and uproot it, with how hard he was leaning on it. “What-what are…” 

A sword callused hand closed over his cock, tugging him free from his bindings and messy laces and Guts was biting into his lip to keep from crying out. He needed to piss so badly, but he was so tense, all of his muscles clenching, his bladder aching for relief and now that he was free, Guts wasn’t even sure he could… 

“Now, now… Don’t be so embarrassed, let it out… Just relax. I’m not here to hurt you.” Griffith licked his lips, completely focused on Guts’ groin, his hand slowly moving down to the base to give a squeeze, pointing the tip downward as the foreskin was drawn back to expose the tip. 

“D-damnit!” Guts couldn’t take it anymore, he forced himself to relax enough to piss and he gave out a whimper as the stream started in spurts, splashing noisily onto the ground. The pain started to ebb away, but his bladder had been so full that the ache still lingered and relief was slow to come. Griffith’s hand readjusted and Guts groaned, finally, finally feeling some relief as the stream continued for what seemed like an age. He felt undone, rattled and exposed and… and Griffith’s hand was moving now, not just holding him as he pissed, but moving as if he wanted to, wanted to pleasure Guts. 

“ _There_ … isn’t that _so much_ better, now?” Griffith whispered, his voice light and airy with a hint of laughter. 

“ _Griffith_ …” Guts gasped out again, stars exploding behind his eyes and he couldn’t believe what was happening. “Wh-what are you…” 

But Griffith just grinned, that arrogant, almost child-like grin of his. “A good commander always takes care of his men…” 

Guts emptied himself into the bushes and brush, biting down on his lip as Griffith’s hand jerked him slowly while he pissed. It was like he had woken up in another world, one where everything was different and Guts found he didn’t much care as he groaned, feeling almost on the verge of spilling just from being able to take a piss. He had never been so desperate just to go in his life and when he finished, he stumbled back quite a ways, pulling away from Griffith before he fell to his knees, shaking. 

A twig snapped as Griffith came over to him, loosening his trousers and dropping them. It wasn’t the first time Griffith’s cock had been in his face, but last time, he wasn’t hard. Guts gasped, unsure of what to do, of what was expected of him. Was he to offer his mouth or… 

A decision didn’t need to be made as Griffith kneeled down in front of him, fitting his more narrow frame between Guts’ spread knees. He grinned still, licking his lips again as he looked demure, eyes downcast, like some sort of blushing maiden. Only, Griffith actually made such a prospect enticing to Guts. He always hated being around women, and other people, hated being touched but this… 

Griffith pressed their foreheads together, grabbing Guts’ wrist and guiding it to his hard cock, but Guts still didn’t know what to do. “Griffith, I-I…” 

“ _Shhh_ … Just take me in hand, and I, you…” Griffith whispered, still pressing his head against Guts’ own. 

Guts hesitated, but he finally relaxed and took hold of Griffith, wrapping his hand around him and he was distracted by the size of his fist in comparison to Griffith’s cock. Griffith started first, sighing softly as he started to move his hand. It gave Guts something to copy, something to mimic as he was so outside of his depth and understanding. Intimacy was… It was not something that he ever sought out, and even now, his mind was trying to scream at him, trying to get him to jerk away, but the weight and pull that was Griffith kept him grounded. 

Guts choked off a cry, feeling himself getting tense again and he could feel Griffith’s breathing coming over his face and chest in hot gasps. He closed his eyes, light dancing behind his lids as he bit into his lip and tried not to cry out or push Griffith away. The weight of Griffith’s forehead against his own was such a comfort, his connection to the moment, and then he felt warmth gushing over his fist, only he didn’t dare open his eyes, feeling his own seed pumping out, sac drawn up tight as he gave out a strangled cry. 

Their breath mingled hot between them and Guts let his hand fall from Griffith’s spent cock, but there was still a firm pressure on his groin. He was uncomfortable then and he couldn’t open his eyes, a stinging on his neck and… 

That had been a lifetime ago… 

Ah. That’s right. It was all a dream this time, and not for the first time, either. 

Guts felt himself pulling from his dreams, but he wasn’t willing to open his eye just yet, even ignoring the burning in his neck from the brand, rain pattering softly on his face. He couldn’t trust his dreams, not any longer, but he so badly wanted to go back to that life that had been bathed in a golden light. 

Griffith… 

Laughing, messing around, feeling the weight of Griffith’s forehead pressed to his own, the warmth of his closeness… The ache of his loins. 

Guts was so exhausted he could have sworn he still felt that weight against his forehead, a presence. Then, there was a pressure against his groin, as if he had to take a piss and he groaned, feeling stiff. He was in no mood to get up, much less to take care of his damned body but he supposed he had little choice in the matter, unwilling to wet himself. 

Guts opened his eye slowly and he wasn’t alone. 

The air was stolen from his lungs and Guts couldn’t cry out, couldn’t even move as he stared into the inhuman blue of Griffith’s eyes. 

No… Not Griffith, that’s not who he was any longer. The blue faded away to bright red and Guts felt his heart racing, pounding in his ears, unable to move. 

_Femto_. That’s who Griffith chose to be. He had chosen to stop being Griffith and become Femto. 

Maybe he had always been Femto… 

Guts swallowed hard, trying not to be sucked back under into the depths of his memories, where his mind liked to colour everything in a hue of gold. Was his life with the Hawks really so much better than it was now? 

The rain came down harder, turning from water into blood. It was always like this and Guts bared his teeth, wanting to lash out at Griffith, Femto, whatever the hell he was, he didn’t care. 

But there was really no point in fighting something that wasn’t really there… 

The world, the forest he was in faded away, turning to black and ash and blood. 

He was on an altar now, in a place like during the eclipse, but not quite. There was an audience, there was always an audience, but it lacked the imposing figures of the eclipse, the round man that said little, the flitting creature with a grin, the woman that had shed ironic tears, and the tall man with no flesh on his face. 

How many times must he have this nightmare? How many times must he dream of his life before that dark, dark day, only to be thrust into the nightmare world of that dark day? 

Couldn’t he just be allowed to sleep, to gain some weary rest, so that he could continue with his revenge? Couldn’t his mind just leave him alone… 

Griffith, no, no. _Femto_ stood at the foot of the altar made of stoney flesh, his groin smooth, his skin overly muscled and blood, blood red. Did he have skin? Did he wear clothes or armour? Guts didn’t know and only watched in horrified fascination as the bulge at the juncture of his thighs increased and increased until a slit appeared and his cock slowly emerged, wet and dripping with thick, stringy fluids. 

Griffith’s cock wasn’t so small now, not in this form and Guts always swallowed hard when he caught sight of it. Why did his mind insist on exaggerating Griffith in his nightmares, making his cock huge and almost grotesque with horrible ridges that twisted down the length. If he were going to be subjected to this torture, couldn’t his mind make it just a little more pleasant…? 

But when had Guts’ mind ever been pleasant? He had always been horribly dark and cruel, why would now be any different? 

Fleshy vines wrapped around his arms and pulled them above his head, leaving him vulnerable, then they wrapped around his legs, spreading him wide, and Guts looked down to see that he was nude, his cock half erect against his thigh. He spit at himself, cursing under his breath that he would react to even _this_. Bound and struggling, arms twisted beneath thick and heavy vines that were rough and cut into his flesh, threatening to rub him raw if he didn’t cease his struggles. 

Guts never did excel at doing what was best for himself. 

His legs were forced open further, scraping across the rough table and he hissed out, Griffith —Femto— walking, dragging his talons up Guts’ scarred abdomen, watching him with those wide red eyes. He said little, Femto almost never said anything during these nightmares and maybe that’s what terrified Guts the most. With Griffith, there had always been words and sounds, even if it were just soft breaths and panting, there was still _something_ for Guts to connect to, but this… 

It was just screaming silence, leaving Guts alone with his agonizing thoughts. 

The talons cut into him, leaving beading trails of blood and he gave up looking down, his head thwacking against the stone-like flesh altar as he laid back, ceasing his struggling. Of all the times this had happened, he had never once gotten free. How cruel, that even in his own mind, he was made to be a prisoner and helpless by the monster that his most treasured friend had become. 

Though… Griffith never did view him as a friend, did he? 

Guts felt his heart racing, his breath coming in quicker and his cock was now standing fully hard. He was ashamed, ashamed at how the pain and torture this creature put him through delighted his body. 

What did it mean that these nightmares were what aroused him the most? 

He didn’t even look away, barely choked back his cry as he felt a hand wrapping around his throat. Not enough pressure to cut off his breathing, just a forceful, dominating pressure. 

Guts bared his teeth, about to struggle anew when Femto raised his other hand, a dark light swirling around it, but his vision was blocked. His breath hitched, his brand burning and he hadn’t noticed just how much pain he was in, his eye wanting to roll back, the world threatening to be dark. 

Why did everything feel so real in his nightmares? 

Lips were against his, the helmet, or whatever it was, pressed into Guts’ face, digging in uncomfortably, but he opened his mouth all the same, letting Griff—Femto’s tongue swirl around his own. His cock jumped, leaking and he might have even whined as the kiss ended, a hand still wrapped around his neck. He didn’t bother opening his eye, knowing how shameful he was for laying like this, liking it as he did. Maybe all of this was his mind’s twisted way of dealing with all the shit… 

“So quiet, so obedient you become, from a single kiss…” Femto usually didn’t say much, but when he did… 

“Bastard!” Guts snarled, baring his teeth, but Femto just smirked at him. His taloned hand came over, a mass of wriggly, glowing blue slime perched there, twisting down his arm. 

“Too easy… So simple…” Femto whispered to him. Snickers and crude comments came from the other spirits lingering in this interstice. He always forgot that they weren’t alone in this place, this display some sort of entertainment for the spirits and apostles Guts had yet to destroy. 

“Griff—!” Guts’ cry was cut off, Femto bringing his hand down, the gelatinous mass closing over Guts’ face and seeping into his mouth, forcing his jaw wide open as it pushed down his throat. Screams choked off and died in his throat as he tried to swallow and Guts was stunned. What… what was Femto going to do to him this time… 

“Just relax…” Femto just looked down at him, smug and superior, that grin he had used to disarm so many over the years, Guts knew it well. 

Guts started to struggle again, finding it difficult to breathe, but not impossible. Red eyes stared down at him, his expression changing from arrogant to curious, almost child-like and that had Guts reeling, wishing to strike out all the more. Thick liquid pumped down his throat and he felt his belly starting to swell. Femto just watched him with fascination as tears started to well up in Guts’ eye, Femto’s grotesque cock twitching, bright fluid rolling down from the tip. 

Pain shot throughout Guts, from his neck, especially where Femto’s hand was still around his throat, idly massaging, making it difficult for Guts to swallow. 

“I’m not here to hurt you…” Femto whispered and Guts struggled to hear him over the rushing fluid going down his throat. 

He was to be entertainment for the darkness that resided here. Chuckles and chatter distracted Guts and he choked, but then Femto was looking out over the vastness of this place, his red eyes narrowed and silence followed. 

Femto left his line of vision and the tentacles released his legs, but Guts didn’t really have the strength or coordination to move them. There was a crack, a great booming and Guts couldn’t even lift his head to see what it was, arms bound prostrate above his head. A cry wrang out and he could barely arch his back enough to see that some of the spirits and apostles lay beneath a chunk of the fleshy altar, and that’s when Guts realized that his arse was hanging over the edge of the altar now, blood smattering his face. 

His ankles were grabbed, pushed up and he groaned, feeling that his bladder was starting to fill and… 

Oh… 

_That_ was to be his torment this time… To play out an old memory, when Griffith teased and tickled him and chased him around until he had no choice but to piss in front of him and then they had… 

Guts groaned, arching as his eye slid shut. Fingers, talons, pressed into him, slick and sticky and he knew he should have been grateful for the slick, thankful to have some sort of preparation, but… 

Pressure began to grow and Guts was starting to feel mildly desperate, especially as those talons pressed inside of him, pushing against him in ways that gave him the urge to take a piss. 

The talons left him and Guts struggled to swallow another gush of fluid, struggling to breathe through his nose. A palm pressed down onto his abdomen and Guts choked, groaning around the constant stream of fluid being pumped into his gut. 

Cold, hard slickness pressed against his arse and Guts tensed, feeling himself being breached. He struggled to free himself to claw his way out of his restraints, even if only one of his hands worked, the canon disconnecting from his arm, more throbbing, meaty vines coming up to wrap around his stubbed arm and hold him fast. 

His eye was open wide, almost wide enough for his iris to roll back into his head as each ripple and ridge of Femto’s cock pushed into him. It was too big, wide and Guts tried to scream around the creature that was wrapped around his face, forcing more and more fluid into him. 

Everything was hot, Guts straining, arching as he felt Femto seated fully within him, and then he was moving, much too soon and Guts tried to thrash his head back and forth, anything to escape this place and still…

Still his cock throbbed and he felt pre-seed rolling down to his sac. A deep, dark chuckle echoed and Guts knew it was Femto laughing at him as those sharp taloned fingers wrapped around him, jerking him slowly before swiping over the tip. “I told you I was not here to hurt you, Guts… You pitiful thing…” 

Guts struggled to be free of this altar, but he also knew just how powerless he was in this world, in these nightmares. Talons dug into one calf, his leg being pushed up, tentacles wrapping around his other leg, pushing it up against his chest and then the torment really started. He was full, but the liquid didn’t stop pushing into him, and then Femto was thrusting, snapping his hips hard, the sound of their flesh slapping echoed. Each sound made Guts flinch, too loud, too much for him to process and then he was just focusing on his bladder.

Pride was useless here and he would wet himself, to get some sort of relief, but Femto was grinning down at him with a wicked blood-red gleam in his eyes. The taloned hand around his cock shifted and Femto was thrusting into him harder and harder and Guts just wanted to scream, to have his voice heard in this damned place and…

Guts gave up, too desperate to hold back anymore and he forced himself to relax, even as Femto changed his angle and slammed into him even harder, each thrust agony as the ridges of his too-big cock popped in and out of him. Piss started to dribble out of his cock and Guts actually thought he might have a moment of relief and… 

And Femto was cruel and deranged. Guts thrashed as he felt a sharp pointed talon sinking into his slit, cutting off his flow, forcing him to stay desperate and full as more and more liquid pumped down his throat. 

Soft panting filled Guts’ ears and he forced his eye open, seeing that Femto now had his eyes shut, mouth hanging open slightly and… and was he actually enjoying this, getting off? Every other time, every other nightmare, Femto had remained stoic to the point of angering Guts even more, the way he would look down at him, fucking Guts with no visible emotion and now… 

Something else was pumping into him, the cock in his arse throbbing, locking deep inside of him and Guts just felt so tight, aroused, painfully so, needing to piss so desperately. He couldn’t take anymore inside of himself, he just couldn’t, eye tearing up, everything a wash of pain and still his damn cock throbbed at it all, just wanting release. 

The creature in his mouth stopped forcing fluid down his throat and Guts could almost be thankful, but then he felt his abdomen swelling, the twisted, thick grotesque cock still inside of him. Talons dug into his thigh and Guts was pulled closer to Femto, his shoulders screaming in pain as his arms were still held by the fleshy tendrils of the altar. 

Guts was barely able to look down at his body, eye open wide in horror as he saw his stomach swelling, twisting and squirming as… as something filled him, grew within him. The pressure on his bladder grew worse and he just wanted to pass out from the pain of it all, but that would have been merciful, and nothing in Guts’ life had ever been merciful. 

Femto just smirked down at him, the crowd of spirits and demons still there, their silence broken as they all whispered things like _“soon… soon there will be more brothers, more sisters to join us…”_

Guts didn’t want to think about those implications as he felt his stomach wriggling, everything about ready to burst and he would have gladly accepted dying in this place, just make the agony end. It wasn’t the first time that his nightmares had done this to him, either, his belly swelling, full of horrors that threatened to burst through his body, but then, then Femto would step away and watch with amusement as he birthed the monsters in the least dignified way. 

This time, this time it was different, with the desperate need to take a piss, his bladder throbbing, everything pounding inside of him, barely able to breathe with the creature still in his mouth, down his throat and he feared if it decided to start pumping more fluid into him again… Guts would beg and plead and cry for it to stop, if that is what it would take… 

The knot of arousal was still heavy in his belly, even with all the squirming things inside of him threatening to rip out of his body, even though his bladder wanted to burst, it was so full, he was _still_ hard and wanting more. To feel Griffith… Femto moving again, just so he could get off, get any relief, no matter how short it was… 

It wasn’t just his mind running away from him, Femto was moving inside of him, pulling out and Guts could have whined at him, were it not for the slimy thing still on his face. Any sort of movement just sent pain through his body, everything cramped and too full, his belly a squirming, wriggling mass and he didn’t even have the strength to pull at his bonds anymore. He was weak and he would have whimpered if he could. 

Maybe he ought to have been thankful for the gag down his throat. 

Femto’s cock pulled at his tight rim of muscle, popping out one agonizing ridge at a time and he hated the way his face grew hot, the way it felt like everything was being ripped from his innards. For a moment, he felt empty, his hole twitching as Femto stood to the side, between his bound legs, talon plugging his slit. Fluids gushed out of Guts as he took a shaky breath and he could hear it hitting the ground, barely able to feel anything as he tried to deal with needing to piss, the creatures wriggling inside of him making the urge that much worse as they bumped and pressed against his bladder. 

What agony, what terrible agony, and still, he just wanted for that taloned hand around his cock to jerk him until he spilled. 

Guts knew that he was pathetic. A demon laughed, a woman it sounded like, high and shrill and he knew he was absolutely pitiful. An absolute wretch… 

The creatures inside of him began to move more and Guts thrashed his head, struggling to deal with waves of pain shooting through him. He looked at Femto and he knew there were tears welling in his eye. 

_‘Just end it, you bastard…’_ Guts thought to himself and Femto laughed. Whether he heard his thoughts or not, Guts didn’t care. 

Strikes of pain wracked through him and more tendrils came to secure him to the altar. 

_“More, more, more!”_ the spirits and apostles chanted, laughing. _“Bring us more!”_

The writhing inside of him stopped, the pressure on his bladder easing off and everything was still, Guts looking at Femto, and those horrid red eyes staring back at him. Then, there was a smirk and Guts was thrashing all over again, tentacles wrapping around his legs, holding them up, pressing his knees into his swollen abdomen, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. 

Everything inside of him started to move all at once and Femto increased his grip on Guts’ cock, the sharp talon pressing further into his slit to keep him from relieving himself and all Guts could do was marvel at how cruel and vindictive Femto was. Griffith never truly had been kind, always looking for the best way to further his own goal, always looking toward himself, and no one else. 

Something was pressing against his rim, something threatening to come out and Guts tensed, everything cramping inside of him. What horror did he have to endure this time… What would come out of him?

But then, this was not unfamiliar to him, in this nightmare world. Femto always did like to pump him full of horrors and then look upon him with cruel amusement as he was forced to breed demons. 

“Don’t be so embarrassed, let it out…” Femto whispered and Guts could scream at him, but then the hand around his cock moved, talon still inside of his slit, but he began to jerk Guts once more, pulling at his hardness. 

The first of the demons left Guts body and he could only wonder just how many more were left inside of him, this time? Would there be a dozen or a hundred… He never could know and Femto was cruel… 

It pushed out of him, wet and sticky as it hit the ground, and then another and Guts felt some sort of relief, the pressure in his body ebbing, but he was still desperate to relieve himself. Three more demons pushed out of his body, each one growing larger than the last, the wriggling starting all over and the tight knot of arousal was building inside of him once more. 

The slime creature was still on his face and his breathing was labored, trying desperately to get air into his lungs, but he felt on the verge of passing out. Another demon was pressing at his rim and he had to force this one out, Femto’s talon still in his cock and he worried his dick might explode if he had to force anymore demons out of himself, without being able to piss. 

Guts’ sac drew up, as if he were on the verge of spilling and finally, finally, finally, the talon shoved into his slit left and Guts was crying out around the slime in his mouth. Another demon slipped past his rim and his cock was slow to respond, but _finally_ he was able to piss and he didn’t care that it was all over himself, hot and stinking and painful. 

“ _There_ … isn’t that _so much_ better, now?” Femto whispered, jerking his cock and almost cooing at him. 

Laughter came from all around them and Guts couldn’t even care as he pissed himself dry, more demons birthing and falling to the fleshy ground, his knees pressed up to his chest. Femto looked at him and Guts couldn’t even look away, in shame or embarrassment. He had no dignity, no pride left and Femto licked his lips, stroking his cock quicker, faster, faster, faster and Guts finally bit through the slime in his mouth, coughing and spitting it out as he felt his knot of arousal bursting. 

He cried out, he thrashed, he birthed another four demons in quick succession as his cock throbbed and his sac drew up, seed gushing out in thick ropes, mixing and mingling with the piss that ran off of his body. 

A deep rumbling chuckle came from Femto and he sounded so much like Griffith, especially on that day that he had chased him out of camp into the woods and forced Guts to piss in front of him. It was all too much and the pain was unbearable. 

Femto laughed and Guts let out a scream. 

Just as his own scream was on the verge of leaving him deaf, he awoke to the sound of pattering rain, sitting beneath the tree he had camped under, his sword still against his shoulder. The sun was beginning to rise, and it seemed as if he had slept all night, but he felt even more exhausted than when he sat down to sleep. 

Everything was wet and soggy and he ignored the spirits gathering around him, the brand on his neck stinging, bleeding. They were nothing compared to the… the nightmare he had just endured, but he didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to deal with anything more than he absolutely had to. 

Find the next apostle, rip it apart, move on… 

Nothing that he dreamed mattered and Guts ignored the way his abdomen ached and the way his cock was sore and how he felt somewhat desperate to get up and take a piss. He ignored the faint smell of urine wafting up from between his legs and told himself that it was just some animal that had pissed nearby. 

Guts stood, blaming his stiffness and aching abdomen on how he had slept sitting up, because _none_ of his nightmare was real. 

All that mattered was finding Griffith, Femto, whatever the bastard called himself now. 

He pressed a hand into his abdomen, ignoring the way his cock throbbed as he remembered just how _full_ he had been… No, no. How full he had _dreamed_ he was in the nightmare. It had only been a nightmare and Guts kept his hand there on his stomach for just a bit longer, allowing himself a lingering moment of self comfort before he stumbled off in the direction of the next town. 

Another apostle, another battle, another step closer to his revenge.


End file.
